There were great strides that could have been made. The trances of the Vesperati could be adapted, the healings and creatures of the Kai'Draen could have advanced, and the myriad forms of light that empower the Calixa's art could be studied and examined. Yet the concerted efforts of the Eight had cast that aside. We are lucky that Eironn-an had been stopped, otherwise the Sidhe would be rendered as far behind as we had been. But soon. Soon, the age of miracles will come again, without the venom of the Eight's power.
-The Necromancer's Notes, Codex 554-Q, Page 2, Philosophy Wing
***
The four of them sat in a crowded inn room, and Karik'ar knew they were being watched.
They weren't being watched by mortal eyes, eyes of the flesh. Well, they were being watched by those eyes, but the eyes of flesh were not those that concerned Karik'ar. He felt these eyes peer over his soul, felt them peer over every crack and crevice of the spirit and psyche.
He had felt that feeling before, and had instinctively known what to do, how to shadow and mask his soul so that the peering eyes found nothing of use. He relaxed, cleared his mind, and the eyes slipped over his spirit.
He had felt that before, and now knew what it was. They were eyes that peered under the skin, into the soul, and by relaxing the mind and by clearing thought from his soul, he left it nothing to read.
Karik'ar looked up and opened the eyes of the soul. He had learned that technique before, seeing the souls and spirits of others. There was no way to describe it, no way to do so if he relied on the words that came from seeing through the eyes of the flesh.
People thrummed with anger, lust. He could see the emotions radiating off them, like a flame, and when he saw these flames, they shone with no light or color, but as he peered at the parts of the soul he could read, he could feel those emotions, feel faint ghosts of them like an aftertaste in his mouth, but not a taste. It was an aftertaste in his mind, an afteremotion.
But that didn't reveal the eyes. Karik'ar saw the souls of others distort, as something rippled through the air by them, taking up a physical space as well as an aetheric space. And there was a way to see these things, as his book had taught him. He took a deep breath, and opened the eyes of his soul, or the eyes inside his eyes, as parts of his book called it.
What he had done first was attune the eyes of flesh with the movements of the soul, so it could see into the shallow parts of the aetheric realm. But while the physical world was land, the aetheric world was like an ocean. He had tread in the shallows, but had not yet dove into the deeper abyss.
The world faded and became blurry, colors muting, emotions getting sharper. They grew colors too, as his brain, conditioned for the physical world, tried to make sense of what it was seeing. Fire reds and verdant greens filled the grey space, surrounding blurry silhouettes of people, flames that flickered between them, shifting and transforming and moving like liquid color. He turned his eyes to the thing that had watched them.
He recoiled in horror and disgust. They could say the creature had a body like a frog. But frogs didn't have a dozen legs, nor did they have hundreds of beady eyes over the top of their head. Small tubes, like fungi, poked out over its back like spines. They were ears, Karik'ar knew just by seeing it. Ears that crossed into the physical world. It could only see souls, but it could hear everything.
And snaking far away, as nebulous and fragile as a ribbon of incense-smoke, something silver coiled through the room. There were myths about a silver cord that bound one's soul to their body. The book Karik'ar read postulated that the silver cord bound one's soul constructs -the spirits they made- to their maker, to the one whose soulstuff they had been born from.
The thing swam about the air, completely ignoring te laws of gravity. Not seeing Karik'ar, it hovered over a drunk, eyes focusing on him, studying him, before moving away to watch some other oblivious victim.
"You alright?" Thaen asked. The other world vanished, and everything came into sharp relief.
"Yeah. You guys weren't talking about anything too... sensitive, were you? No secrets about me that the public shouldn't know, if you get my drift?"
"You mean about your-"
"Yes, Thaen, let's not say it, though. And don't use my name." He looked where that thing had last perched. "There's something watching us. Something magic."
"Oh," Thaen nodded. "Whatever... brother. Sir. Whatever you want to be called."
"Thank you," Karik'ar said.
"How did you see it?"
"Well, I read some stuff in a book," he said, making sure he was vague enough that the soul construct didn't pick up anything incriminating, but specific enough so that others could understand what he was saying.
"Is it safe?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Don't worry, I took the necessary precautions." Still, part of him worried, though he told the others not to. What if that thing had followed him before? What if that monster had heard him mention his powers? What if something else they said betrayed him. He'd look up how to 'exorcise' the thing, if there was such a technique.
"You're saying something's following us?" Skaria asked. "What if I stab it?"
"I think he's implying that it's non-corporeal," Indra said. "Stabbing is useless. It is a ghost. A phantasm. Blades won't harm it."
"Maybe magic?" Skaria shrugged. "Leave. Now."
Two things happened simultaneously. One, a pretty girl chatting with a guy suddenly found herself thrown out the door by an invisible force. The guy stared in shock as the raven-haired maiden seemed to be yanked out by a strong gust of wind, or an invisible lasso.
Second, through another door, some drunk dressed in rags and reeking of booze and filth tumbled in, disoriented to say the least. Quickly, the man was thrown back out, and the young lady tottered back in. "Did it work?" Skaria asked.
Karik'ar opened his eyes, and then his eyes inside his eyes. "Nope." The thing was swimming through the air again, slower than it should, all dozen or so legs moving in a disturbingly fluid fashion. Something with that many limbs should have some trouble moving around in space, even if it was non-corporeal. It drifted between two people, before opening its mouth and licking someone's head, tasting some of the fiery emotionstuff that came off them. KArik'ar wished it hadn't; the thing had a dozen wormlike tongues that all moved and darted about in a fashion that made Karik'ar somewhat queasy. "Still here."
"It's alright to ignore it?" Indra asked. "If we can't get rid of it, maybe we just pretend it isn't there?"
"I think that's all we can do," Karik'ar said. "I don't think it's harming anyone." He looked with his non-aetheric eyes to the place where it had swam, before turning back and studying those around him. "Tomorrow, what are we going to do?"
"We knock Mirsari out," Indra said. "I can smuggle out a bottle of somno-ether-"
"Somno-ether?" Skaria asked.
"It's an anesthetic," Indra said. "Unlike chloroform or normal ether, it takes very little to render someone unconscious, and the effects stay longer." She nodded. "Don't worry. It'll work."
"And then we take her to the University?"
"Yes. There's an operating room in the Hall of Natural Philosophy. You can use that to help Mirsari. It'll be quiet and sterile."
Karik'ar nodded. "That's excellent. You can get a key?"
Indra gave a coy smiled, reached into one of the many folds of her dress, and pulled out a small iron key. "I already have one."
"How did you get one?" Skaria asked.
"Well, there happened to be a rather bad spill," Indra said. "An unforeseen accident, of course. Who knew that the floor would be slick and wet when two students were carrying a crucible full of alchemic solvent? And right by the plumbing?" She shrugged. "When we neutralized the solvent, the neutral mixture mingled with... some rather disgusting waste, and it stank. It was so fortunate, such an act of providence, that it was by the groundskeeper." She smiled. "Now, there's a giant hole in the floor, and that should be distracting enough for them not to notice a missing spare key," she said.
"Wait," Skaria said with a chuckle. "You're saying you blew a crater in the floor of your school?"
"Well, I dissolved a crater in the floor of my school," Indra said.
"Nice." Karik'ar snorted at that. Skaria seemed endeared with Indra when the scholar was destroying something, and usually in a spectacular fashion.
"I'm going to grab more food," Karik'ar said.
"Grab me something," Thaen said.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know, pick something." Thaen leaned back on his chair. Karik'ar rolled his eyes, but went up, figuring out what to order for Thaen.
He pushed through the crowd (an easy feat, seeing as he was two feet taller than the tallest man, twice as broad, and thrice as heavy), before reaching the bar. No one was there at the moment, so Karik'ar waited.
"You know, I met this guy a while back. At the Library." Karik'ar's ears perked up. He recognized that voice. Vellie. The young lady who processed his magic application at the Library. She sounded drunk, a faint slur at the end of her words betraying that fact.
"Is this the one you told me about? The Agyar exchange student?" her friend asked. Karik'ar looked over and saw the two of them sitting at a booth, completely oblivious to his presence. Which, despite how impossible that might seem, wasn't that hard to do in such a crowded area.
"No, this is about the Kai'Draen man I met." Immediately, the blood in Karik'ar's face ran cold. There couldn't be too many Kai'Draen in Saefel Caeld; most of the Kai'Draen who lived in cold environments lived in the Circle, from what he heard. Or the mythic lands on the other side, if they even existed. "Big, brawny. I'd pay to see him without his shirt on." His face heated up at that. She was a freak.
"He had magic, too." And with that, everything ended. She had done it. She had violated the secret he had entrusted her.
"Mira told me about that," her friend said. And that drove the blade of despair further into his heart. She told others.
But maybe there was hope. Maybe there was a way to salvage this. He opened his aetheric eyes and stopped, breaking into a cold sweat.
The frog-monster hovered over her head, shuddering. It was listening intently, he could tell. And then, with unnatural speed, it leaped from her head and darted out the window, following the spectral silver trail.
His heart was heavy as he returned with some food. "Oh, my favorite!" Thaen grabbed the chicken dish Karik'ar had gotten for him and began to dig in. But Karik'ar never touched his food. After all, dead men didn't eat.
And for him, it was only a matter of time.
***
Karik'ar had once remarked that he could read the emotions of others by peering at their soul. That seemed a bit freaky -kinda like a spiritual voyeur- but Thaen had learned to do something similar. After all, the body was an expression of the soul. Instead of reading the emotions directly, Thaen simply read their body and face.
There was something that haunted Karik'ar, the way the restless shades of the dead haunted a house. Something was wrong with him, something oh so terribly off. He could see it in the tenseness of his back, his shoulders, as he folded up his shirt and prepared for bed. He could see it in the odd silence that hung around him like a funeral shroud. Sure, Karik'ar was quiet, but this wasn't quiet. This was silence.
"Is something wrong, Karik'ar?" Thaen asked.
He was silent. "Yeah, there is something wrong," he said. "I'm... I've been found out."
"Found out?" Thaen asked. "What do you mean by that?"
"You remember how I needed to expose my power to someone, to show I possessed magic, and thus was capable of getting access to the sections on magic?"
"Yes," Thaen remembered that, when Karik'ar came home with more books, books on stranger topics than anatomy. "You're worried about that? You said it was going to be kept confidential, so don't worry. Trust me, you'll work yourself up over nothing."
"Yeah, well, I heard her talking about it to a friend, who said that another friend had told her about me," Karik'ar said. "And then that thing that was watching us, I saw it around there. It heard, and then it sped off, following the silver cord."
"Silver cord?" Thaen asked. Was this some magic gobbledygook Karik'ar had just learned about?
"It's a spiritual tether that connects the constructs to the ones who made them," Karik'ar said. "He sped back to his maker."
"Oh." Thaen paused. "Well, you don't know if they're after you, do you?" There had to be some way out of this, had to be. Something like this situation had to have a silver lining.
"There would be no other reason to send something like that up here," Karik'ar said.
"Well, is there a way out of it? Why are they doing it?" Thaen asked.
Karik'ar sat down on his bed, thinking for a moment. "Hmm. Well, the reason's a bit odd. Come over here for a second." Thaen arched an eyebrow, but got up and sat down next to him. "And, just curious, your sleepwear has the same color scheme as everything else we've seen. Red, gold, black, and white. Why?" he asked.
"Black represents night," Thaen said, "the time we're often quite active. Yellow represents the daytime, while white represents innocence and moral purity." He paused. "Red represents blood, the thing that grants us power." He sat down next to Karik'ar, adjusting the covers to make a bit of a seat for him. Even when sitting, the Kai'Draen loomed over him, but Thaen didn't mind too much. They were good friends, after all. Size didn't matter when you saved each other's life.
"Alright, you know the different races and castes of Kai'Draen?" Karik'ar asked. He grabbed a book and opened it, showing several drawings of different Kai'Draen. Some had tusks and brutish muscle, others were slimmer with... were those fins? Thaen studied the sketches, until he found the one that resembled Karik'ar the most. He squinted at the label.
"You're Steelborn, right?"
"Yes, but that's not a race, that's a caste. The body type is a caste," he said. "For example, Steelborn look like me, while Stoneborn have slightly less muscle mass and tend to be a bit on the pudgier side. And Tuskborn look closer to what I am, except their bigger and they have... well, tusks."
"Right," Thaen said, "exactly what the label says."
"Okay," Karik'ar nodded. "Now, while mingling of races can be acceptable, depending on the tribe, mingling of castes is considered forbidden."
"Why?" Thaen asked.
"It has to do with some of the religions there. Most of them tend to lean towards animistic practices; you know, everything has spirit power to it."
"Okay... what does this have to do with the castes?" Thaen asked.
"Supposedly the castes, according to these beliefs, came about after some Kai'Draen called upon the spirits of different animals. For example, the Tuskborn are claimed to have come from the hog-wolf. The Steelborn came from the-"
"Wait a moment," Thaen said. "A hog-wolf? What is that?"
"The reason many people die in the swamp I live in. Trust me, it's pretty much exactly what it sounds like," Karik'ar said. "Killed one once."
"Okay. Continue."
"Well, they say that to channel these spirits, one must have a purest of pure bloodline. I think it's all nonsense, but others don't. They see half-breeds as 'tainted' and in danger of cutting others off from the ability to tap into that bestial nature. So, as such, we're seen as diseased, and in danger of affecting others. Which, to be fair, is true. There's no family tree, no family structure, so who knows? Supposedly some of the shamans have ways to test, but they're quite involved and can't be done on everyone in a tribe of a few hundred, possibly even a thousand."
"Ah," Thaen said. "So if they can tell..."
"It's preemptive prevention," Karik'ar said. "Most of the time, it's the presence of magic in one group that doesn't get it as often. Like Steelborn." He rolled his eyes. "However, I've just learned that's natural to every caste, so there's lots of false positives... though they may have reason to worry if they stop. Par of the reason makes a twisted kind of sense."
"What's that?"
Karik'ar paused. "What happens if you use too much of your power?"
"I exhaust my consumed blood supply," Thaen said. "I get hungry, cranky, really irritable, and suddenly I start craving every dish I smell that has some meat in it. It used to have blood in it, so my senses go wild for it. So, when my mother is cooking, I won't be able to focus." He paused. "Long-term, severe, debilitating cravings start. I was locked up for a while... that is never fun to go through," he said.
"Yeah, sounds tough," Karik'ar said. "But, here's the thing. If I overuse my power, I can drive myself mad. Insane. To avoid this, most Soulsplitters are taught a slower, longer, but safer technique. The only problem is that one needs patience. And Steelborn aren't known for being patient."
Thaen shuddered at that. "A madman with magic... I can see why they'd want to stop that. It's a disaster in the making." He smiled, realizing something. "Hey, you're living proof that it's not fated for every Steelborn Soulsplitter."
"I'm not all Steelborn," Karik'ar said. "My mind is different."
"Oh," Thaen said. "What is it?" he asked.
"Either one of the Fireborn or Waterborn castes." Karik'ar shrugged. "I'm leaning more towards Fireborn, as I've seen some more creative impulses in what I'm more drawn to." He smiled. "Half of the weapons I use I've made myself."
"You're half-breed, then, and there's no way to fix that." Thaen thought. "Can we stop them from coming after you?"
"I was thinking about that," Karik'ar said. "Fighting them is out of the question, but there could be a way to get around that. If they think I'm dead... why would they come after me?"
"Smart," Thaen said. It was smart. It was something that Thaen wouldn't have come up with. Karik'ar was smarter than his looks belied. And he was a good actor too. Thaen noticed that everyone else immediately assumed Karik'ar was dumb as bricks, and reacted and treated him accordingly. He didn't mind, and that puzzled Thaen at first, but now it all made sense. The Kai'Draen hunters were looking for a man with the body of a brute and the mind of a genius. When others saw Karik'ar, they saw a brute with a mind to match. Just the way a normal Steelborn, by Thaen's guess, would act.
"Yeah. I don't know how I can do that," Karik'ar said. " They'll be likely to cut off my head and bring that back as proof to the chief."
"Well, can your magic do something like that? Can you fake them out?" Thaen asked.
"Yeah," Karik'ar said, "I think. There might ways to hypnotize them or manipulate their mind... but that's a very advanced technique, and I'd need to read up more to be able to attempt something less complex than that."
"Ah," Thaen said. "Wait, what had you said before? Fighting is out of the question?" He paused. "Why is that?"
"They'll be seven or eight Tuskborn at least. Along with the one sanctioned half-breed. Angror." Karik'ar grimaced. "He's got the strength of a Tuskborn and the speed of the Featherborn." He sighed. "It's Skaria and I alone against them." He frowned. "She's tough, but even her strength has limits. She could maybe kill one. I could take three or four. I've been training, after all."
Thaen rolled his eyes. "Idiot, you got me too! And Laidu!"
"Yeah, Laidu's probably going to be busy," Karik'ar said. "He doesn't look too good in the head from the last time I had seen him. And honestly, Thaen, I love you and I'm glad you're my friend, so take this as well as you can," he cautioned the Vesperati, "but you're a bit on the small side."
Small? Small? He sighed. True, in stature and in weight, Karik'ar could crush him, even with his enhanced, strengthened bones. But he had something Karik'ar didn't have. Blood. "Lemme show you something," he said. He braced himself against the wall. "Arm wrestle me."
"You're joking, right?" Karik'ar asked. "I know you've got enhanced strength."
"And I can fight." He paused. "There were some Kai'Draen trying to sneak into our hold. They didn't have any piercings, though, so I don't- hey, where are your piercings?"
"I take them off every night," Karik'ar said. He lifted his arm, exposing the lattice of muscles around his ribs. "See those?" he asked, pointing to small holes, loops of skin, a few per individual muscle, all neatly lined up. "Imagine sleeping with metal in your skin. It's a heat drain." He set his arm down. "Anyway, they had no piercings?"
"Nope," Thaen said. "They were also orange. Don't know if that means anything."
"They were suicide troops. Unfit to live. They disgraced themselves, somehow. Maybe an act of cowardice, maybe some crime, but whatever it was, it was enough to get them ostracized and sent to their deaths. What weapons did they have?" Karik'ar asked.
"Spears. I think one had a stone ax," Thaen said. It had been a while since that incident happened. A dozen of them had tried to scale the mountain side, and as a test of the newest batch of Reforged soldiers' mettle, they sent out two. Two!
Thaen and another Reforged flew out in a night, and engaged the monstrous beasts in the morning. They were strong, but the two Reforged had technique and discipline on their side. And weapon quality, of course. Metal would beat stone every time the two weapons would clash. Well, maybe a stone weapon in the hands of a master and the metal weapon in the hands of a novice might produce different results, but in the end, there were twelve Kai'Draen corpses to feed the vultures, and three small cuts on Thaen's comrade's side that didn't need immediate medical attention. They watched that pass, and that was the end of that.
"I took care of them," Thaen said. "We can take 'em. It's better than giving your entire life away out of fear." He hopped off Karik'ar's covers, trotted over to his own bed, and wrapped up in the cover.
"Yeah. You know," Karik'ar said, lying down, "part of me wants to settle down. Find a lady, start a family."
"Find a lady?" Thaen made a face at that, confused. "I thought you and Skaria were a thing!"
A long, exasperated groan echoed in the room. "Really? You too?"
"Hey! You spend all your time with her!" Thaen snapped at him. "You protest rabidly enough to make everyone believe it."
Karik'ar rolled his eyes. "No... and besides, even if I wanted to, I doubt I could. I'm not attracted romantically to Skaria. If anything, I'm kind of afraid of her."
"Normally, I'd say a guy as big as you being afraid of a woman would be ridiculous," Thaen said, "but in Skaria's case, it's completely justified." He paused. Something was bothering him. "Wait. That half-breed you mentioned. Angror. How old is he?"
"He's in his fifties, I'd imagine."
"You're in your prime!" Thaen said. "Don't worry about him. He'll be easy to deal with."
"Not really," Karik'ar said. "As Kai'Draen age, we don't really get weaker. Our skin might start to age, but we don't start weakening until we're in our late seventies. So a fifty-year old can easily best a twenty-five year old like me." Karik'ar sighed. "Anyway, when this whole debacle is over, I might need your help finding a lady. I've heard you and Mirsari get along quite nicely."
Thaen's cheeks heated up. "Yeah, and that was kind of an accident. Indra set me up."
"Well, then I'd ask Laidu. But I'm sure you should be able to help."
"Yeah. You better fix her wings. Otherwise, seeing as we're abducting her, she might be angry at me." He frowned. "Why did Indra decide to abduct her?"
"I think Indra think's Mirsari'll think it's too dangerous. If anything, I suspect this is as much for Indra's conscience as it is for Mirsari," Karik'ar said. "Now, I need sleep if Panacea and I are going to be working tomorrow."
Thaen settled down, and within minutes he was asleep.
***
Indra was walking home in the dark when it started happening again.
She gritted her teeth as her head began to pound and her vision began to blur. "Not now," she snarled as she began to hurry. There were only three blocks. Three blocks. Surely she could make it that far.
Nope.
The world vanished around her, and she was back in that strange otherworld, where everything was mist and impossible geometries in one moment, the next, pure idea-stuff in her mind. She understood the stone beneath her hands, saw the chemical, the poetic, the philosophical composition of the rock.
She tried to see, tried to peer through the air. There was stuff in the air, the same geometric shapes that shouldn't -and didn't- exist. It was less dense, and if she looked at everything, focused on nothing, she got a conceptual idea of what was around her. To her left, she could tell something once-organic, grown, not made, stood. That must have been wood, and she saw the ideas behind it, the feeling of home, of love, of safety within. She understood that, saw the ideas and abstract concepts as if they were real, and smoothly went from seeing them to reading and experiencing them, so fast that her head began to ache.
One foot in front of the other, Indra ordered. That was what she did. She took a step, reached out, probing the air. Her fingers brushed through the unreal geometries.
And they moved. Indra blinked. The designs, now stars, now ideas, had shifted and warped by her touch. That wasn't normal at all. Then again, she was hallucinating things that hurt her head. What was normal here, where she could see thoughts that no one had and touch abstractions and move them with her hands? What measure was normal or real in a world of unreality and abnormality?
The geometries of the air warped again as Indra moved through it. One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other. That was all she could do. The mist world, where light came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, threatened to overwhelm her.
And then it was gone.
Indra fell onto the cold stone, feeling the rough bricks bite into her hands. She welcomed the pain. It meant she was alive, she was real. Sad, really, that she needed something like pain and cold and feeling in her hands to tell her what was real and what wasn't, and that she couldn't tell the difference herself. It worried her to no end.
But there were more important things to worry about. Mirsari, for instance.
She hurried home, before she could enter that world again.
***
Tonight was the night. Tonight, they healed Mirsari.
Karik'ar was nervous. Why shouldn't he be? They were about to abduct someone. That was a crime, and if this didn't work, he'd be going to jail for more than just abduction. He'd have maimed her, ruined her body far worse than it had been before. He didn't know if he could do it. Sure, he had confidence. But he wasn't fully certain, and that nagging voice gave him doubt.
Thaen walked beside him, tense. "You can do this, right?"
"Yeah," Karik'ar said. "I can try. That's all I can do."
Thaen nodded. "Thank you. If... when this works, I'll take you out for drinks."
Karik'ar chuckled. "That'd be fun." He kept walking. "Her house is up here?"
"Yep. Indra's with her."
"And Indra's knocking her out?"
"I think so," Thaen said. "If not, I can probably manage." He shuddered. "But... I really don't want to. It would feel wrong, so wrong, to do that to Mirsari."
"I understand," Karik'ar said. "If Indra is unable to do it, I can. I'll be strong enough," he assured Thaen, "and as gentle as I can. I don't relish hurting a lady."
"She's as strong as me. She's got the red eyes of a Sensedancer." Thaen paused. "Just... be ready for anything. And thank you for being gentle." He sighed. "Heal her. Make her whole again. And get Indra off my back for this. She's so driven by this madness it's getting annoying."
"Indra's got misplaced guilt. Maybe this will make it go away. Maybe it won't." Karik'ar shrugged his massive shoulders. "I'll do my best."
They arrived at the door. Thaen took a deep breath. "You ready?" he asked Karik'ar.
The Kai'Draen nodded, shivering. "I'm ready."
Thaen knocked at the door. "I'm coming!" Mirsari said. Karik'ar's heart pounded. He had seen the beautiful Vesperati lady from a distance when Thaen walked past the guildhall, once.
She opened the door. "Thaen!" She smiled when she saw him, but her red eyes widened when she saw Karik'ar. "What is this?" Her eyes shone with fear, and she went to close the door.
Thaen grabbed the door, trying to hold it open. "What are you doing?" Mirsari asked. "I'm not letting that monster in!"
Indra wouldn't have been able to sneak up on her if she hadn't been tugging against Thaen, trying to wrest the door form his control. But she did, and she pressed a white cloth against her nose and mouth.
Her eyes widened in panic as she struggled against Indra's grip. Her magic, strengthening her limbs, would have saved her if she had acted quicker. But she didn't. Karik'ar could see the glazed look in her eyes, the induced stupor of drugs. First, she was fighting Indra. Soon, she was fighting the drug on the cloth.
And, finally, she stopped stirring. Indra kept the cloth on her nose and mouth. "Karik'ar, be gentle with Mirsari," Indra said.
"Don't worry." Karik'ar stepped in, and scooped Mirsari up in his arms. "She'll be safe with me." Her small head rested against his chest. He could feel her breathe, slow and gentle.
"This way," Indra said. She marched out, grabbing her cloak off the peg as she walked by it. "The University is closed now, and we should have uninterrupted access to the operating theater." She grabbed another cloak off the peg and threw it over Mirsari. "Keep her warm, Karik'ar." He nodded.
The three of them set out after Indra locked the door. Thaen stood by Karik'ar, almost like an honor guard for Mirsari. Occasionally, he'd reach out and stroke her hair. "Don't worry. He'll fix you, Mirsari. You're going to be alright." He leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"You like her a lot, don't you?" Karik'ar said. "You fell for her quickly, didn't you?"
"About as quickly as any Vesperati." Thaen shrugged. "Half of the average Vesperati courtship involves getting to know your love's family." He stroked one of her braids. "Besides, I'm almost twenty-one. I need to find a girl to settle down with soon!"
"That's tough," Karik'ar nodded, looking down at Mirsari's peaceful face. "I mean, I can't help you land a girl, but I can help her." Her face was harder to see, seeing as it was mostly black fur in an already dark area. The only light source was the clear moonlight and a few candles shining out of frosted windows.
"Thank you," Thaen said.
Indra led the two of them to the gates of the University. "Crap. I forgot about the gate. We're going to have to climb the wall."
"The fifteen foot wall?" Karik'ar winced. "I don't think I can climb that holding Mirsari."
"Shh!" Indra kept her voice low. "There are guards!"
"Relax. I got this," Thaen said. He yanked the drawstrings on his shirt, releasing it, and letting his wings open. He crouched. And then, with blood-powered muscles, he threw himself up into the air, and with a beat of his wings, he leaped over the gate, landing on the ground on the other side of the gate. "We're good."
He fiddled with the gate, before shoving his shoulder against the wrought iron. With a groan, it opened. "After you," he said. He looked around. "Good, no one heard."
Indra stepped through, and Karik'ar ferried Mirsari though, being careful, gentle to her. "The Hall of Natural Philosophy is this way." She led them through the streets, passed a small square with an ice-encrusted fountain, and to the front of an ornate building, flanked by columns, encrusted with ivy that shone silver in the moonlight. The Hall of Natural Philosophy, Karik'ar guessed. Maybe it was those words, carved into the top of the building, labeling it the Hall of Natural Philosophy.
Indra moved in close to the giant double doors, peering at the iron lock. "Let me open this for you," she said. Withdrawing the key from her dress, she slid it into the lock and turned, having to struggle, it seemed, against the heavy tumblers of the mechanism. But, finally, with a click that seemed loud as a thunderclap in the dead silence of this clear night, she opened it. "And we're in."
Karik'ar stepped into another world.
That was the only way to put it. The atrium opened into a grand hall, and windows on the sides of the building let in slats of moonlight, sprinkling silver light around the hall. Statues stood guard over the hall, paintings keeping watch on the walls.
There was a shadow on the ground, of something huge, with wings of dread. Karik'ar's eyes looked up and he started, fear pounding in his chest.
A dragon stared down at him, and for a moment, he freaked. But then he saw the thing, and relaxed. It was a dragon, but only the skeleton, articulated and suspended from the ceiling by an intricate pulley system, half-hidden in shadows. "Wow," Karik'ar breathed.
"Supposedly, the dragon bones were donated by the dragon herself. She bequeathed her remains to the university. This way though," Indra said. "The operating theater is downstairs."
She led the three of them across the hallway, their solitary footsteps echoing in the vast chamber, and down a flight of stairs. "This way," she said. "It's kind of dark, so make sure you watch out for the-"
"Ow!"
"-the fallen statue." Indra kept walking, oblivious to the pain in Karik'ar's shin. Small candles, burned down to little more than stubs, gave some luminescence. Indra, however, seemed to think it wasn't enough. She pulled out one of her vials and shook it, producing a sterile light that showed the way marginally better. "Right here. Here we are," Indra said. She pushed the door open.
The operating theater was dark, but Karik'ar could make out several ampitheater-like seats around an operating table, closed off by a small wall. Well, small for him. "Lay her on there," Indra said. "I'll get the lights, and then Thaen and I can run interference so no one gets in," she said.
"Alright." Karik'ar gently laid Mirsari down. "Indra, are you going to prepare her? I don't feel comfortable doing that."
"Oh, yeah, you get the lights then," Indra said. "There's a switch up top, if you follow theobservation seat paths. And to get over that wall, there's a door over here you can-"
Karik'ar vaulted the wall with a single jump. "Or you could just leap over it." She went over to Mirsari. "Thaen, please leave and wait outside." The Vesperati nodded, but before he left, he fixed Karik'ar a glare. And with that, he stepped outside the theater.
Indra was preparing Mirsari, removing her shirt and spreading her arms. As Karik'ar found the lever, and the lights turned on (the lights being a giant glass cauldron of some foul alchemical liquid suspended above them), he saw the extent of the damage.
Mirsari wore bands around her arms, pinning her useless wings close. Now, as Indra removed them, the scar-tissue wings splayed out over the table, formless pouches full of bone shards. It was almost revolting. It was certainly heartbreaking.
He got down and inspected Mirsari. She was still unconscious, and wearing an undergarment to preserve her modesty. He checked if it would be in the way. That was the last thing he wanted, for her to get new wings, but have them fuse with her clothes or heal around them. That would be horrible. The garment she wore covered her bosom like a human garment would; however, instead of looping around the body, the cloth covering was suspended by several strings around the neck and around the waist, allowing Mirsari's flanks to be free. It shouldn't be a problem.
"Go. I'm ready," Karik'ar said. His heart pounded. He didn't know if he was, but he was about to find out.
Indra left, closing the doors behind her, leaving KArik'ar alone, but not for long.
He exhaled. He could feel the essence of Panacea tumble out of him, coalescing in front of him, staring at Mirsari. "Well," she said, "we have our work cut out for us."
Karik'ar nodded. "Can you do this?"
"I'll need you to cut and break for me," Panacea said. "But yes. We can do this." She clapped her hands, and thin, green light coalesced around their hands. "Protection, so she doesn't die of infection," Panacea said. "And for you." Karik'ar nodded.
And then, with Panacea at his side, he got to work.
***
Thaen heard the other person first.
They were outside of the Hall of Natural Philosophy when Thaen heard the footsteps echoing through the streets. "There's someone coming," he whispered to Indra.
"Probably security," Indra said dismissively. "Getting Mirsari in would have been tough to explain, but for all he would know, we're just students."
"It's not a security guard, unless they get drunk regularly," Thaen said.
"Oh... not him," Indra said. "One of the students regularly drinks himself into a stupor. He's also as stubborn as a mule."
"And that's a problem?" Thaen asked.
"Yes," Indra said. "There's cots down below the Hall of Natural Philosophy, by the infirmary, which happens to be right next to the operation room." Suddenly, she straightened. "I have an idea. Can you go and find a guard?"
"Yeah. If I go on the rooftop, I can... what are you doing?" Thaen stared at her. She was... primping. Indra yanked her scarf off of her head and around her shoulders like a shawl. And then, oddly enough, she removed a ribbon off the top of her dress, exposing her... ahem, accentuated bosom. "Go, find a guard!"
Thaen nodded and let his wings free, feeling them fill with blood and sensation, feeling the cold air caress them, feeling how the currents of the air played around the membrane.
And then, with a powerful leap, he took his rightful place in the air.
It didn't last too long. He crashed down onto a roof, before scrambling forward. His ears perked up at any sound he heard, twitching, scanning the air for anything that could clue him in as to where a guard might be.
Aha! There was an even pattern of footsteps, with the jangle of metal chainmail. A guard, no doubt. As Thaen leaped from building to building, using a burst or two of wingwork to give him the extra momentum to cross those gaps, he tried to pinpoint the exact location of the sound.
And there it was, a street away. Thaen hopped down the roof, flapping his wings a few times to slow his fall. Then, quickly folding them back up and tying his wingslits on his shirt shut, began to run towards him. "Officer! Officer! Come quick!"
Thaen could see the guard, dressed in warm furs, staring at him, lantern in hand. "What's wrong?"
"A fellow student!" Thaen didn't elaborate, but he tried to look panicked enough to let the guard figure it out himself. "Follow me!"
He rushed back through the streets towards the Hall of Natural Philosophy, praying that Indra had thought of something. He didn't know if she'd be ready, Thaen could only hope.
He turned the corner and stopped. There was Indra, leaning against the wall of the Hall, and there was someone else -they had to be the student she had talked about- in front of her. Thaen did a double take. Why was he reaching down the neckline of her dress? Surely he couldn't be so brazen!
"You dirty animal!" Indra shouted, loud enough for the guard to hear, before slapping the man with a blow that would make anyone's head ring like a bell. The drunk scholar stumbled away, and Indra recoiled in horror at him.
The guard broke into a sprint, rushing towards the man. "Halt! You're under arrest!" The drunk tried to rise, however, the copious amounts of alcohol he had imbibed made him look like a newly-born foal, on unsteady legs. Thaen could tell he had been drinking; even from this distance, Thaen could smell it on him.
The guard dragged him up. "Hey! She asked me to do it! Get off me!" He turned to Indra. "What's your deal? You asked me to do that!" His voice was slurred.
"How dare you suggest that! You're a filthy, filthy man!" she said. "Oh, Thaen, thank goodness you're here." She rushed over to the Vesperati, trying to hide behind him, which was difficult seeing as she was taller than him.
"She's lying! I swear!" the drunkard shouted to the guard. "She asked me to do it! Said she had drunk something and wanted me to!"
"Nonsense!" Indra recoiled again. "How dare he impugn my virtue and honor!"
The guard arched an eyebrow at the drunk. "Really?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yes!"
"Well, you'll have a chance to tell your story to a magistrate," the guard said. He turned to Indra. "Do you want me to send a guard over to ensure your safety?"
"I'll be fine," Indra said. "I'm still working on a project in there. I only just stepped out to get a breath of fresh air when this lecher," she said, fixing the drunk scholar a glare, "decide to force himself on me. Fortunately, Thaen here, one of my classmates, saw me and went to grab help." She smiled. "I'll be fine. Do not worry."
The guard nodded and dragged off the drunk scholar. "I'm sorry that happened to you," Thaen said as they entered the Hall. "It must have been difficult."
"He was right," Indra said. "I had asked him to feel my heartbeat. I told him that I had quaffed an alchemic compound, and needed to see if my heart rate was speeding up."
Thaen stopped. "You just tricked him into looking like he was committing a crime?" He shrugged. "Efficient."
"Yes. Still pretty disgusting," she said. "Let's see how Karik'ar is doing."
***
He could never tell if he had blood on his hands.
Karik'ar washed his hands, studying the pink water that flowed off him. That was the only way he could tell the difference, to some extent. Sure, his skin was a slightly lighter shade of red, but in this dim light, he couldn't tell the difference.
"Karik'ar?" He looked up as Thaen walked in. "Are you alright?"
The Kai'Draen nodded. "Just tired." He finished washing, wiped off his hands, and sank onto a bench.
"Is... is she okay?" Thaen looked worried.
"I did my best," Karik'ar said. He could have given more of an answer, but he was too exhausted, mentally exhausted.
Thaen's eyes widened in sheer terror, and he rushed into the operating theater. Karik'ar paused, before slowly getting up and pushing the doors open.
Mirsari still laid on the operating table, unconscious, arms splayed out. Thaen stared, not at the wings miraculously reshaped and given proper form, but at Mirsari's body. Karik'ar grumbled, walked over to his friend, and slapped him upside the head. "The wings are the more important part. Not her stomach," he said.
"Sorry," Thaen muttered. He averted his eyes. "Now what?"
"We wait for her to recover," Indra said. She sat on one of the benches ringing the operating room. "We wait for her to wake-"
Mirsari sat bolt upright, screaming. "What did you do to me?" she roared. She looked down at her state of (medically necessary) undress. That seemed to only intensify her fury. "Monsters!"
"Mirsari, I can explain!" Thaen said, moving closer to comfort her.
"Stay away!" She thrust her hands at Thaen, to ward him off. Karik'ar saw her eyes slide from Thaen to her arms, to her now intact wings. "No... no, that's not possible." She turned her hands over, studying the wings, marvelling at them. "That... that's not possible."
"You're welcome," Thaen said. Karik'ar arched an eyebrow. Really? What had Thaen done except run interference? He cleared his throat. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't do anything, he did," Thaen said, pointing at Karik'ar.
She turned and faced Karik'ar. "You... you did this?" she asked. "That's not possible. You don't look like a surgeon, and even if you are... what you did was impossible. How?"
"Magic," Karik'ar said, with an edge of sarcasm, just enough to make it seem like 'magic' wasn't the actual answer.
Mirsari's face soured. "Fine. I can't complain. You've given me a gift, a priceless gift." She threw her shirt on, and while she wasn't looking, Karik'ar shot Thaen a glare. The Vesperati really needed to stop gawking. After she buttoned the shirt, she walked over to Karik'ar. "Thank you."
She hugged him. "Thank you," she repeated. She was going to say something after that, but her stomach spoke instead. Loudly.
"Thaen," Indra said, "go get her some food."
"Get her something high in fat and protein," Karik'ar advised. "That's what she needs. What was used to reform her wings."
"Reform my... how did you do that?" Mirsari asked, before another growl of hunger pangs struck.
"I told you. Magic." Karik'ar said. "And Thaen, get her some food quickly. The sooner the better."
***
She had grown weaker the farther they walked.
At first, it was barely noticeable. A quiver in her legs grew to a shake, and she began to stagger about. Thaen thought she was just trying to stay out of the wind, but it soon became apparent that her stumbling was out of weakness.
She pitched towards Thaen. One moment, she was walking unsteadily behind him, the next, he was supporting all her weight. "Mirsari! Are you alright?"
"I feel weak."
"Well I can see that," Thaen said. "Is it hunger? Or something else?"
"Hunger."
"Alright. Well, the place we're going to isn't far away. I'll carry you there."
"You can't be serious," Mirsari said. "That's ridiculous."
"No it's not," Thaen said. "I'm strong enough. Watch." With that, he bent down and scooped Mirsari into his arms. "See?"
"Thaen!"
"If you're going to tell me to put you down, I will. If you can answer me one question," Thaen said. Mirsari clung to him as tight as she could, which, given that she was weakened, wasn't strong at all.
"What is it?
"How are you going to get there unless I carry you?"
"I would rest a while."
"Well, now you can rest while I carry you." Thaen gave her a smile, held her a bit closer, and set off.
Part of him liked it, liked the feeling of Mirsari's head leaning against his chest. It made him feel... not useful. It was more than that. Like he was living up to his purpose, to some extent, though... maybe not as profound. It felt good, to say the least. Mirsari's beautiful ruby eyes began to flutter, then close. She should be exhausted. Her body had just gone through a great ordeal, getting healed.
They arrived at the restaurant. Unlike the classy establishment Thaen had taken Mirsari out to last time, this was a hole in the wall. But Karik'ar had said something about fat and protein. And this place had just the thing.
Thaen gently kicked the door open, letting the heavenly smell of fried food out into the air. Mirsari stirred. "We're here?" Two of the cooks looked up, staring at their new -and only- customers. It wasn't every day that business came in carrying someone.
Thaen nodded. "Yes, we are." He set her down at a booth, gently smoothing out her ruffled braid, before moving over to the counter. "Hey. Can I get two Coldspire skewers for me and... um, five for her?"
"Five?" one of the cooks asked. "You trying to fatten her up?"
"She needs the food," Thaen said. "She's starving."
"Son," the cook said. "I'm pretty sure your girl isn't that thin and hungry."
"She is. And it shouldn't matter. I'm paying anyway."
The cook shrugged. "Fine. Seven Coldspire skewers coming right up." Thaen nodded, paid the man, and walked back over to Mirsari.
"You got me food?" she asked. "I'm hungry."
"Yes. Give them some time to make it." Thaen put his arm around her, made sure she was warm. She leaned against him, not present in the moment, kept back by hunger. Soon enough, that would be fixed.
The food arrived, and Mirsari opened her eyes. "What is that?" She picked up a skewer, staring at the golden... things impaled on it.
"From what I can guess, fried, battered meats. Kind of tasty," Thaen said, picking up a skewer. "You just bite them from the side. Like... never mind, you could just yank them off and stuff them in your face." Mirsari was hungry. That much was clear.
After three whole skewers, Mirsari began to slow down. "I'm going to hazard a guess that you're not able to tell me anything about how I got fixed?" Mirsari asked.
"I wasn't there. I was on guard duty." Thaen didn't want to have to lie to her to protect Karik'ar. This answer, fortunately, seemed to satisfy her. "I had an idea."
"What?" She was halfway through her fourth skewer now, and Thaen chewed on a piece of meat.
"Well, I figure, I want to take you out to do something. In... three days time?"
"What do you want to do?" Mirsari asked.
"I want to teach you to fly again," Thaen said.
Mirsari nodded. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." She kept eating, finished the last of her meal, before hugging Thaen. "Thank you." She kissed him on the mouth, gently, her lips soft as a southern breeze. "Now, are you going to eat that skewer?" she asked, pointing to Thaen's untouched second skewer.
"Hah. No." He handed it to her, and smiled.
He couldn't wait for three days time.